


the one where chandler wears a skirt

by yuckk



Category: Friends (TV)
Genre: Boys Kissing, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Not much tho, Smut, kinda OOC, ok enjoy, rachel is a star, ross is swag, soft!chandler, the gang is woke, too many tags, yes i made them wear skirts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:01:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28145769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuckk/pseuds/yuckk
Summary: Turns out he couldn't hide for long, though, and as he's leaning over to grab something out of a draw in his room guess who just saunters in unexpectedly."Holy fuck." It's breathy, Chandler realises with a faint blush, rushing to stand up straight, pulling the skirt down as far as he can without accidentally taking it off.or: chandler in a skirt <3
Relationships: Chandler Bing/Joey Tribbiani
Comments: 18
Kudos: 108





	the one where chandler wears a skirt

**Author's Note:**

> love portraying my issues onto fictional charracters  
> theyre all 18/19 in this so theyre still at home w their parents. au thingy dont question it lolz
> 
> i fixated on this for two hours straight i apologise for mistakes
> 
> ft chandler in a skirt  
> prettyboy!chandler asf
> 
> enjoy <33

He's not even sure why he bought it. He'd seen it in a shop window and decided to let himself be impulsive for once -- like he did when he blurted out a snarky remark at what was definitely not the best timing. 

Plus, technically it wasn't _that_ bad, because the person at the counter -- a teen, his age, who had bright hair and was probably the last person to ever judge him -- had given him a knowing look, said he'd look great in it, made him blush like some school girl. The compliment made him smile, though, and it made him a little excited to try the piece of clothing on. 

Chandler practically ran up to his room once he got inside the house, glad that it was only their workers who were home, meaning they wouldn't disturb him, too busy with work. And the thrum of anticipation that bubbled low in his gut was a rare, almost foreign feeling. Chandler bit his lip. 

He shut his door behind him, the thought of someone coming in a distant worry. If someone _did_ come in he could easily say it was a dare from one of his friends, it wouldn't be too odd as the gang did pull some mean pranks every now and then. 

Chandler put the bag on the bed and took out what was inside it with a small, meaningful smile. 

. 

And okay, this was a big, _big_ mistake. 

It was a big mistake because he could hear a familiar voice growing closer, calling out his name, a hint of worry in it, and Chandler felt himself tense up. 

"Cha --! Oh." 

It's Rachel. 

"Honey?" 

There's a pause before he manages to remember how to speak. 

"Please don't tell the others," Chandler whispers, voice strained and tears in his eyes. He suddenly feels nothing but pathetic, the joy he'd felt so intensely a minute ago now hidden under endless piles of dread. God, what if she judges him, or _does_ tell the others, what if she calls him a -- 

But then he's being enveloped in a warm hug, nose resting in the crook of her neck and the urge to cry is too strong. 

"It's okay, sweetie," she reassures, hand rubbing up and down his back soothingly. "Hey, I _work_ with fashion." It's a joke, obviously to try make him feel better, but he's not quite ready to face the fact she knows what he's doing. Chandler simply cries a little harder, gasps brokenly into her neck and all she does is hold him tighter. He's so lucky to have a friend like her, he swears. 

. 

"Okay, but _this_ is a disaster." 

"What?!" 

"Chandler, come on!" 

Rachel had called one of the maids to bring her a cup of warm milk, but it was actually for Chandler, and he insisted that warm milk was for children but Rachel said it'd help calm him down a bit. He was hiccuping from crying so much, a mess of tears, and he convinced himself he was just too tired to argue because of those things. He just wanted to bury himself in blankets and fall into a deep sleep. 

Plus, he never really questioned her, so he silently drank it whilst sat on his knees on the bed, back resting against the headboard uncomfortably. That was until Rachel had put a pillow behind him, of course, babying him even more, and he secretly _loved_ it. Obviously acted like he didn't, even if there was a knowing look on her face. 

Once he'd fully calmed down, eyes less puffy, Rachel had started complimenting his skirt. _His skirt_. Chandler felt weird. 

And that'd eventually led them to him apparently needing to shave his legs, Rachel even calling him _bigfoot_ as a joke. Chandler gawked offendedly at her. 

"I am _not_ shaving my legs." 

"But, Chander -- it feels so nice!" 

"No, Rachel. That's final!" 

Shave his legs. What was he, a fucking wimp? 

. 

So, yeah, turns out he _is_ a wimp, but he's a wimp with the nicest legs ever, so it's worthing losing a piece of his craved masculinity over.

Rachel had also managed to shut down a few of his nasty thoughts, told him that clothing has no gender and there are probably millions of people that like wearing what's considered strictly for the opposite sex. Also mentioned that some construction workers probably shaved so they didn't smell as bad when they sweat and they were always considered manly. It was a bit stupid, but it genuinely made him feel better. 

"I -- I'm literally a girl, oh my god --" 

"Chandler, you _aren't_ a girl for shaving your legs, okay?" 

"Yeah, fine." 

"Now stand up, give me a twirl!" 

_"Rachel!"_

. 

Chandler started wearing the skirt around his room a bit more often. It was a simple one, plain black that stopped a few inches above his knees, and he felt like he was slowly falling in love with it. It was terrifying and he became a bit more ignorant with his parents, especially his father (as if he didn't already do that) to prove something to himself. What it was he wasn't sure, he thinks he just needed to know this didn't make him any different, and with how overbearing his father would he about it he didn't really fancy the man finding out. Plus, with his mother's casual homophobia, that definitely wouldn't go down well, either. 

Monica found out, too -- walked in unexpectedly much like Rachel had, and she'd comforted him when tears slipped down his pink cheeks. He told her about how Rachel felt about it, still sniffling and hiccuping every few seconds, but there was a hint of a smile on his face as he talked about the skirt. It made Monica want to cuddle him. Like a teddy bear, or something. 

"You still look handsome, sweetie," she smiled, kissing his forehead, and the way he melted at the affection was possibly one of the most vulnerable moods she'd ever seen him be in. 

. 

Ross found out next, and Chandler expected a few funny looks from him and maybe being ignored for a few days, but he'd also -- turned up in a skirt? 

"Okay -- don't be mad, Monica and Rachel told me, so I just --" 

Chandler laughed and enveloped his friend in a hug, having to go up on his toes slightly, smiling into the taller's shoulder. 

_"Thank you for not, like, freaking out,"_ Chandler had said later on whilst they were eating a pizza on his bed, netflix on the TV. 

"No, no. Honestly, they're _super_ comfy. Plus, most things that are considered strictly feminine today were actually originally made for men," Ross said matter-of-factly. Chandler groaned jokingly, knowing Ross liked his facts, but he didn't fancy getting lectured right now. His friend simply scoffed but smiled at him, and they were just two friends chilling in skirts. It was weirdly relaxing. 

. 

Phoebe was probably the most hesitant out of all of them so far, but she slowly warmed up to it. Chandler knew that was to do with the girls' help and he thanked them the next time he saw them. 

He started wearing it around them, minus Joey, of course -- he wasn't quite ready for that yet. The boy was probably his closest friend and they told each other basically _everything_. He'd hate for that to be ruined just because Chandler wanted to wear a stupid skirt. 

Turns out he couldn't hide for long, though, and as he's leaning over to grab something out of a draw in his room and guess who just saunters in unexpectedly. 

"Holy fuck." It's breathy, Chandler realises with a faint blush, rushing to stand up straight, pulling the skirt down as far as he can without accidentally taking it off. 

"I -- Please don't be mad. Or judgemental. I may just cry," he quips, but it's a genuine plead, broken, strained smile on his face. 

Joey just stands there, seemingly speechless, and Chandler's not sure whether to run or whether to cry. Basically break down he did with Rachel and Monica when they found out. 

He opts to run, hastily walks past Joey -- tries to, but a hand on his arm, a gentle yet firm grip, stops him. His breath hitches, the touch almost electric. What the fuck is happening? 

Chandler refuses to turn around, so Joey makes him, looking down at the slightly shorter boy with something alike to fascination. Chandler doesn't meet his eyes, opts to stare at Joey's shoes. 

"Chandler, look at me," he tries, but the other doesn't budge, that feeling of shame he'd felt when he first got caught overwhelming him. It's a white noise in his ears, a sudden bitter taste in his dry mouth. 

"Chandler," Joey whispers, hand coming up to softly grip Chandler's chin, _making_ him look up at him. It sets off something flutterly in his stomach and the urge to pull away, to run and hide is so incredibly overwhelming, but he's not sure if he can do that to Joey. Plus, he's wondering where this is going to go, and he can freak out about it later. It's not an issue at the moment. 

Chandler's lips are parted briefly, breath coming out in soft pants. Joey's leaning in before he can think twice about it. 

A muffled squeak gets caught in the smaller's throat, but then he's hesistantly wrapping his arms around Joey's neck, practically melting into it, voices in his head quiet and the bitter taste he'd once felt gone. 

Joey's hands start rubbing along his thighs and Chandler gasps into his mouth, which earns a growl-like sound from Joey, and _holy fuck_ it's hot. 

"Look at you, huh?" Joey starts to coo as he pulls away, hands slipping under the large sweater Chandler has on. His hands roam the other's skinny frame, sets his skin on fire, and it feels _good_. Too good. 

God, he's definitely going to regret this later. 

"So pretty," Joey says into his ear. Chandler's knees almost buckle. 

"You wanna? --" 

"Please," he says, voice impossibly small, and he doesn't know how to do this, just hopes Joey will lead him through it. _Like a mento_. Chandler bites his lip to stifle a smile at the memory of when Joey said he was a _mento_ to kids whilst chatting up a girl. He's not even sure why his mind goes there. Guesses he's just a bit panicky, trying to calm himself down, remember this is Joey, Joey who would never hurt him on purpose. 

Joey kisses along his neck, nips at the skin there, and Chandler's worked up because of it in no time, lips shut tight so he doesn't let any embarrassing sounds out. 

"I -- I don't know how to do this," he admits sheepishly, breath hitching again when Joey finds a particulary sensitive spot -- _how_ does he do that -- and bites at it. 

"We don't have to do anything if you don't want to," he reassures, now looking Chandler in the eye, hands ghosting over his skin like a warm breeze. 

"No, I want to. Just -- bear with me," Chandler chuckles weakly. Joey smiles at him, pecks his lips a few times. 

"Of course, sweetheart," he says with a faint smirk. 

. 

"Come on, darling. I wanna hear you." 

And how did they end up _here_. 

Chandler was straddling Joey who had a hand wrapped around his cock, slow, torturous strokes edging him, and he was so desperate but every time he got close Joey gripped the base, stopping him. It was so _good_ but it _hurt_ and he was tempted to just push Joey against the mattress and rut against him. 

He still had his skirt on, had gone to take it off but was told to keep it on, was called a _pretty boy_ and the praise had him keening. Made him want to be good, to be obedient. It was an unusual feeling, but giving into it felt amazing.

What followed was probably one of his poorest sexual performances yet, whimpering and moaning helplessly into Joey's shoulder, thighs trembling from the almost overwhelming pleasure. 

"You're so _sensitive_ ," Joey said, a little mocking, and Chandler should not find it as hot as he does. He buries his face in the crook of Joey's neck. "So worked up, just from my hand," he chuckled deeply. "Bet you'd be even more of a wreck with me fucking you." 

Chandler saw white when he came, a yelp escaping his bitten lips as his hips moved on their own accord. Joey's name was heavy on his tongue as he whimpered it. A wet patch formed on his skirt and butterflies erupted in his stomach, because _wow_. 

He eventually began whining from the oversensitivity and Joey laughed. Took mercy on him and removed his hand before wiping it on Chandler's skirt. 

"Hey," he frowns. 

"Love, it's already soiled." And yeah, that's fair, he guesses with an embarrassed chuckle. 

"Wait, what about you?" Chandler asks with a brief movement of his hand that shows what he means. 

"Another time, yeah? This was more about you," he smiles, and Chandler wants to swoon. 

Suddenly he's not too worried about that regret he was so certain about earlier turning up.

**Author's Note:**

> tempted to add another chapter that's just a blowjob /hj
> 
> i love love love comments because im a whore for validation ok bye


End file.
